Power in Death: Book 1 of The Destiny in Death Series

Coffin Thoughts

I'm alive again, don't ask me how or why. I wouldn't be able to tell you myself. Last thing I remember before dying was fingers splaying on my back as I stood on my hotel balcony over looking the city. I remember when the hand pushed me before I could even turn around. I remember being air bound, the rush in my stomach, the wind slicing at my hurtling body. I closed my eyes then, I could see the slab of concrete my body was targeting and deep rooted fear made me close them. A fraction of a second later the inevitable happened. For a brief moment pain was everywhere and then that was it, internal darkness or atleast so I thought.

I'm still in my final resting place which is a precarious situation to be in. Don't even ask me how many times I've wondered how the fuck do I get out of here. After god knows how long I realised that I didn't need food, water or even oxygen which is a good thing in a fucked up way because there most certainly isn't any of the previous things in my confining coffin. Plus it would have been a bit heartless of the universe to kill me twice. Regardless it was a massive shock but a lot of time passed and I got over it as it's not like I can do much more than sit and think about it. So, I've pretty much processed my situation, pretty much.

I wonder if anyone will dig me up? Will there be a construction site here eventually like in the movie where Johnny Depp is a vampire? Shit what's the name of that movie? Ugh I can't remember, that's going to annoy me. There's a chance maybe a wild animal will smell me? Shit that's unlikely. Doubt a squirrel or a cat could dig six feet down even if they did smell me. I chuckle under my breath or I try to but I don't breath anymore- pretty sure my sanity has gone out of the window along with my ability to breathe.

I wonder how many days it's been since my death; I hope my Dads alright and my little sister. I haven't seen them since my Birthday. I hugged them goodbye, they wished me happy birthday and to be safe, all the normal stuff. I went out with a couple of mates up to Leeds, got the train, went round town drinking as it was my 18th and we even rented a hotel for the night. The hotel had a beautiful balcony, shit day to die but also a good last hurrah. God I'm fucking morbid but who could blame me? 

The depression is getting worse. I'm afraid I will never leave here, I keep fighting and I even managed to make a dent in the coffin lid but now dirt is just slowly trickling in along with the critters. I keep doing it anyway, it's my only chance to get out of here after all but it's like water torture but with dirt instead. 

More time passes, the indent is getting bigger. I don't feel any pain from the sharp splintered wood which freaks me out but I can't think too hard until I'm free. I wish this was a fucking zombie movie because on the second scene my hand would reach out of the earth in a claw like shape and I'd be free.

I think I'm going insane now, rightfully so. I cry, I scream and curse my murderer. I whisper to myself stories to get me through. I've swallowed so much dirt by now I'm surprised there's any above me still. It's gotten to a point now where my voice has even been stolen from me from all the screaming. 

So now I'm silent and one night I don't even move I just stay as still as the earth below me. The desperation to leave is fading but I have to kick myself from this crappy mood. Then I hear it, it's faint. It sounds like hacking. I can hear the soil being disturbed above me. I wait in anticipation. Suddenly my coffin splits open and I close my eyes at the ambushing light. I feel two hands on my wrists and then I'm being yanked upwards through all of the dirt that has confined me and dropped like a sack of shit on the ground. I've been so long without sun it's hard to adjust my eyes, I squint my eyes as they water looking down at the ground. My black death dress is dirty and my clogs and tights too. My dark hair is flopping over one should in a similar distressed manner. My arms and hand are cover in blood with jagged bits of wood sticking out from the flesh. I don't care though, I'm free of my death bed.